The Mysterious Box
by insertcleverandwittytitlehere
Summary: Hugo and Rose are cleaning out their grandparents' attic when they stumble upon a box filled with strange items they've never seen before. Even Rose's keen eye and sharp intellect can't help the siblings place where this stuff might have come from. And who are Monica and Wendell, anyway?


**A/N:** Beater 2 of the Chudley Cannons checking in for Season 5 Round 3 of the QLFC.

 **Prompts:** Beater 2: Write about a Truth that is found by the next generation

 **Additional Prompts:** 1\. (word) fair and 13. (object) lamp

 **Word count before A/N:** 2,606 words

 **Reader reference:** I talk about a lamp in my story. This is the model I used: canyouactually dot com /wp-content/uploads/7-93 dot jpg

Thank you to my lovely teammates MaryandMerlin and coleytaylor for betaing for me this round!

 **I am not J.K. This is her world and her creations. I merely get to play.**

* * *

"You ready?" Rose asked.

Hugo inhaled deeply. "No," he sighed. "But that doesn't mean we can leave, does it?"

Rose smiled sympathetically, taking his hand in hers. The gesture was meant to be sweet, Hugo knew, and it was, in a way. It had been a rough few months for their family, and if anyone knew how Hugo was feeling, it was Rose. But her hand in his felt almost comical, like they were children again.

Or maybe it was because of the place. So many childhood memories had happened in their Muggle grandparents' house, and now, here they were, about to package everything up like it was old news. Granny and Granddad were well into their 90s when they passed, but it still hurt. First it was Granddad. Cancer. That was three months ago. Then Granny. Heartbreak from losing her husband. That was just last week.

He gently squeezed his sister's hand, the pressure reassuring Rose that he was there for her too.

"Alright. Let's do this."

Hugo followed his sister up to the attic. Down below, his mum and dad were rooting through old bills and other paperwork from their Grandad's office. His mum, he knew, would more likely be trying to keep from crying than actually sorting through things, but he couldn't blame her. He didn't even want to begin imagining what it was like to lose one parent, let alone two.

The attic, as it turned out, was just big enough for the siblings to crawl around from box to box. Their mum wasn't kidding when she said there was a lot to go through, and soon, after an hour of picking through holiday decorations and old patient files, Rose threw down the paperwork in her hands and let out a frustrated moan.

"Why didn't they label any of these bloody boxes?" she groaned, pushing one aside to reveal yet another behind it. "Arrrgh! I love Granny and Granddad to bits, but this is ridiculous. _This_ box had an assortment of snowmen in it, and _this_ one, which was right next to it, had Mum's old cloth nappies. And _this bloody box_ has vacation pictures in it! There's just no organization process here at all. It's not fair!"

Hugo looked at her, his pouting 27-year-old sister, surrounded by nappies and Muggle photographs. _This,_ he thought, _is the mother of my niece._ He started laughing.

"What?" she looked at him, her blue eyes blazing.

"You're acting more like a child than your own baby, all because we have to go through some unorganized boxes," he laughed harder. His sister, instead, picked up a stuffed snowman and threw it at him.

"Har har," she said. "Shut up."

Hugo went back to his box, shuffling around some photos and old letters, until his hand brushed against cool metal. "Hey, look!" He pulled a large metal fish out of the box. "What do you think it is?"

"Ugly," Rose crawled over to him. "What's in this box?"

"Hey, I think it has a plug… yes! It's electric."

"Are these fishing hooks?"

"Rose, we have to plug it in. I need to know what it does." Hugo moved the fish lamp around and around, examining the way its metal gills wove in and out of each other. It was about the size of a Quaffle, with large protruding branches coming off all sides. He pushed the thing in front of his sister's face. "What kind of fish is this?"

"Angler," she pushed it away, instead grabbing the letters and photos Hugo had bypassed.

"Angler," Hugo repeated, staring into the giant metallic eyes of the electric fish in his hands.

"Okay, Grandpa Weasley," Rose rolled her eyes. "Put down the Muggle lamp and take a look at this letter."

Rose handed Hugo a yellowing piece of paper with big loopy letters scrawled across it. It read:

 _To my favorite fisherman and dentist!_

 _Gerdi had to wrangle this beauty from a touring Kiwi, but in the end she snagged it for you. Hope you like it, Wendell, and send Monica my love._

 _\- Corey_

"Fisherman and dentist..." Hugo mumbled. "What's a Kiwi?"

"It's a colloquial term for New Zealanders," Rose said distractedly, her eyes still surveying the box.

"Why do you know that?"

"What I'm really interested in is who Monica and Wendell are and why their lamp is here. Maybe dentist friends, but Granddad hated fishing. Why do they have all this gear for it? Hooks, bait, extra lining," Rose picked up each item as she spoke. "And look at these pictures."

She handed them to Hugo, each one of their grandparents from well over twenty years ago. There they were outside the Sydney Opera House. Another in front of a road sign that read 'Welcome to Melbourne.' The next they were outside a small, refined building, with the words 'Wilkin's Dentistry' etched on the front.

"When were they in Australia?" Rose asked

"Wilkins? You think that's Wendell and Monica?" Hugo placed the photos and the lamp back into the box. "Hey, wait… I think this is a diary."

Hugo picked up the small, leather-bound book. He opened it to the first page, and read aloud, " _June 6, 1997. We did it. We've moved hearth and home down to Sydney. Wendell thought it the best fit out of all the brochures we read through. We did read through an awful lot, too. I think this is the best decision we've ever made. With no kids and no living relatives, this change is sure to bring success. I can't write much today; we've a lot of unpacking to do, but I'll be sure to update regularly for posterity. Here's to us!_ "

"This is weird. _I_ feel weird. Maybe we should pack it back up…"

"Maybe we should ask mum."

"No," Rose shook her head. "I don't like it."

"Hey, kids," their dad yelled from downstairs. Hugo nearly jumped out of his skin, the diary in his hand flying across the attic and landing with a thud. "Mum wants to walk down to the cafe on the corner for lunch. You two ready for a break?"

Hugo looked to Rose for an answer. Always quick on her feet, Rose had her wand out.

"We'll be right down," she called. Then she shrunk the box to the size of a peanut and pocketed it, lamp, fishing gear, photos, and all. "Grab the diary."

Hugo did as he was told, and soon they were off to lunch.

* * *

"Okay," Rose placed a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and joined Hugo, Scorpius, and August on the floor. "I've read through the diary twice, and there are definitely a few things that concern me."

"How on earth did you read through that twice?" August asked, a look of awe in his eyes.

It had been two days since the attic, and Rose had done her research. She had called Hugo that morning, asking him to come after Quidditch practice. So, with August in tow, Hugo had apparated to his sister's house a little after 8.

Rose and Scorp's daughter was in bed, and the four of them were able to talk without distraction, seated around the box filled with Monica and Wendell's things.

"I'm a fast reader," Rose smiled. "Scorp read it too. He agrees that there are some, well, weird passages in here."

She handed Hugo the book. He asked, "Like?"

"Like, on September nineteenth, she keeps writing about forgetting something very important, but she couldn't remember what," Scorp said. "That's your mum's birthday, right?"

"Right," said Rose. "And the later entries, they mention Mum by name. Even Dad sneaks in there two or three times. But each time, it's like Monica didn't actually know who they were, just that they existed."

"Where?"

Rose grabbed the diary back, flipped through the book, and stopped. She read, " _February 23, 1998. I've been experiencing some minor headaches again, much like I did during the holidays. Nothing too bad, but when I have to use the overhead lights at the practice, my eyes start to water. Wendell said I should take the day off tomorrow, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Hermione would know. I had the most delicious peach jam the other day. I'll have to go back to the Farmer's Market to see if the Jen's Jams stand is still there…_ "

"That's it? _Hermione would know_ , and nothing else?" Hugo asked.

Rose nodded, handing back the book. "That's the first time her name came up. There are only a couple more times, too, and each time, it's her name and then nothing. Monica just keeps rambling about her day-to-day life."

"Is it possible they were wizards in disguise?" August asked.

"I didn't pick up on anything magical," Rose said. "At least, not in that sense."

"In what sense then?" Hugo asked. He had started to flip through the journal, hoping to find another passage with his mum or dad in it, but there were too many entries to flip through quickly.

"I think Wendell and Monica had some kind of memory charm done to them. Rearranged their thoughts."

"Mental," August started pushing around the items in the box. "How do your grandparents fit in?"

"I don't know yet," Rose said.

"Hey!" August pulled out the lamp. "This is pretty neat."

"Of course," Rose turned to Scorpius. "They both like the godawful lamp."

"Shouldn't we just ask Mum about all this?" Hugo grabbed the photo of his grandparents outside the dentistry again. "Why aren't the elusive Monica and Wendell in this photo with Granny and Granddad?"

"I don't know that either," Rose said. "I don't know anything about any of this. I'm torn. Of course I want to ask Mum because she'll know. But I don't want to ask Mum, because, well, she's going through a lot, and what if this makes it worse?"

Scorpius placed an arm around his wife. "Yes, well, what if this is something she'll appreciate too?"

She smiled, "I don't know."

"Rose," Hugo put the diary back in the box. "You don't have to solve all the world's problems yourself. We can ask for help."

She sighed again, hugging her knees into her chest. "Alright, fine. But I want it on record that I don't like it."

* * *

Hugo's mum sat at the kitchen table, a mug of hot chocolate in front of her. Rose and Hugo took the seats opposite, unsure of how to start.

"We…" Rose couldn't finish her thought.

Hugo tried to start too, however uncertainty tugged at his lips. Rose had gotten to him; what if this would hurt their mum and not help?

"Okay," it was their dad, forever pacing the floor behind their mum. "You called us up on those whacky handheld fellytones. Your mum had to drag me out of bed, and, despite this gorgeous face, I do need my beauty rest. What's up?"

"Uh, nothing," Rose smiled.

Hugo rolled his eyes. "We found something."

He placed the box, once again peanut-sized, on the table. Then he quickly changed it back to its regular size. His mum stood, her eyes scanning the items inside.

"What is all this?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," said Hugo.

He watched as she began to sift through its contents, her eyebrows crinkled in confusion. It was almost midnight, and though Rose had protested and wanted to wait till morning, Hugo couldn't wait. It was all too weird, and something in his gut told him that this was not okay. Something was wrong.

Ever since they unearthed the diary and the photos and the lamp, Hugo wasn't sleeping well. It was as if there had been a disturbance with the natural balance of things, and he couldn't rest until the pieces were aligned again.

Slowly, recognition washed across his mother's face. She took some of the photos and turned to her husband.

"Ron," her voice trembled. Rose grabbed Hugo's hand, and he felt his stomach plummet. It _was_ something that would hurt their mum. His dad stepped closer to inspect the photo, his face pensive.

"I can't believe it," he finally said.

"They told me that they didn't keep anything."

"Well," he placed his hands on her shoulders, "it looks like they did."

"I never expected…. I didn't expect to ever see any of this."

"Any of what?" Rose said. She removed her hand from Hugo's and stood. "The fishing hooks? Old pictures of Granny and Granddad? What is all this?"

"I have a long story to tell you two. I should have told you sooner, before your grandparents passed," Hugo's mum sat again, motioning for Rose to do the same. Their dad took the box from the table and sat beside his wife, his hand finding hers. "After the war began, right when the world looked most grim and we decided we would be helping your Uncle Harry, I knew that my Muggle parents were in danger."

"All Muggles were in danger, really," their dad added. "But because your mum was so brave and stood by Harry, she knew they would be targeted."

"So I did something a little crazy," she said, smiling. Hugo's heart was pounding in his chest. "The truth is, I illegally erased my parents' memories of me. I made them believe their names were Monica and Wendell Wilkins, and I sent them to Australia to live out their lives. I even convinced them they would be great fishermen."

His parents fell silent.

"I'm sorry, what?" Rose said.

"Fortunately, when we went to retrieve them after the war, it turned out your mum's memory charm didn't work entirely."

"Somehow, the Wilkins remembered they were dentists, and we found their practice in a matter of weeks," their mum finished.

Again, their parents fell silent.

"No, no," Rose said. "What?"

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Hugo asked.

"I didn't want you to think any less of me," his mum said. "It was mental, and when we found them, they did not want me anywhere near magic. Over time we came to understand each other again, but they didn't want you to know and think—"

"They didn't want us to know?" Hugo asked.

"No," his dad said. "Because they forgave your mum, and it all happened so long ago."

It was Rose who stood first, and instead of storming off, which is what Hugo expected her to do, she grabbed the box and placed it back on the counter. She handed the diary to their mum. "It's not much, but it's Granny's memories from that year."

Hugo's mum tentatively took the diary from her daughter's hand. She thumbed through the first few pages, taking in the words. "Thank you, Rose."

They continued to empty the contents of the box, sorting into keep and donate piles.

"So, it's settled. I will keep the pictures and the diary. Rose will get the diary when I'm done. Hugo keeps the lamp."

Rose groaned. "Mum! Every time we go over to his flat we're going to have to look at it!"

"Yes, well, if August likes it too—"

Rose groaned again but Hugo knew it was all in good fun. Knowing what had happened in the past had already helped Hugo feel at ease with the mystery box he and Rose had discovered. Sure, he liked the angler fish lamp, but really he wanted it to remember his Granddad by. And to remember the lengths at which his mum would go to protect those she loved. He only hoped that his one-day future children could think the same of him.


End file.
